


Meeting the Family

by sweetestthing (functiondys)



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Fluff, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/functiondys/pseuds/sweetestthing
Summary: Donna Noble has a little brother. Donna Noble's little brother is a giant, scruffy, disaster of a human being that needs a proper bollocking. Ellie Miller's going to make sure she has a front row seat and her boys are bringing popcorn.





	1. Chapter 1

Hardy opened the door and froze. 

It had been going so, so well. Nights with Miller, weekends with the boys, a peace that was finally starting to settle itself out over their lives. He really should have seen this coming.

“Oh,” he gulped.

There she stood in all her terrifying red-headed glory.

“Oh?” She repeated.

Shit. There was that tone.

“Oh?”

He was in trouble. He was in so, so much trouble.

“That's it? That's all I get? Oh? You absolute twat, what the hell were you thinking. I know, my wife's left me, I'm so sick with a heart condition that it's killing me. What will I do? I know. I'll move to the arse end of the country away from everyone that loves me -”

The rant had done something he never thought possible and silenced the noises from the Miller household behind him.

“Donna.”

“Will I tell my sister? No. Why would I do that -”

“Donna.”

“Cause I'm Alec Hardy and I'm a fully automated human disaster zone masquerading as a human being!”

“Hello,” said Miller appearing at his shoulder with a cautious smile on her face. Hardy nearly jumped out of his skin. She gave a nod to indicate him. “You know him then?”

“To my eternal frustration.” Donna lowered her tone to that of a normal human being and continued. “Sorry, you are?”

“Ellie, Ellie Miller, nice to meet you. I live here”

Donna glared at him. 

Introductions, right. Yeah, introductions, he could do that one.

“Right um. Donna. Donna Noble, meet Ellie Miller my... uh, my co-habitee? Co-parent? Girl... friend?”

“I'm his partner.”

“Partner,” repeated Donna. 

Oh there was the rage again.

“Ellie Miller,” he said quickly, praying to anything that'd listen that it'd help. “Meet Donna Noble. My uh... my...”

Why the bloody hell were words so difficult.

“Sister.” Donna looked at him as if he'd suddenly dropped to the ground and started licking the pathway. “The word you are looking for you epic malfunction, is sister.”

“Oh,” said Ellie, expression warming into a slightly puzzled welcoming smile. Donna however shoved a manicured finger in Hardy's face.

“If the words 'technically you're not' so much as come near your mouth.”

“Of course they weren't,” he objected. They were but he wasn't going to tell her that. Not now she was so obviously going to take it the wrong way. “Family's heart, not blood. Of course you're bloody family.”

Donna looked genuinely touched and he honestly thought they were sharing a moment, right up until she snorted, “Alright you big girl's blouse, don't start sobbing on me. Honestly.”

“I didn't know you had a sister,” said Miller looking more entertained than she did annoyed, he wasn't entirely certain if that was a good thing or not.

“I didn't know he a partner and more bloody kids.”

“They're not -” Hardy objected.

“What?” a double echo from Ellie and Donna, affixing him with equally unimpressed looks. Hardy swallowed.

Right, feelings. Words. 

“Here. I should go. Get them. So they can meet you.”

“Well better late than never, honestly how do you put up with him?”

“Well it's not easy but someone's got to. Has he offered you a cup of tea yet? No, of course he hasn't. Come on then, let's get you a nice cuppa.”

Hardy gave a non-verbal sound that was somewhat akin to a squeak of objection.

“I could murder a good cuppa.”

“I could murder your brother – the things he never sees fit to mention.”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

Hardy stared blankly at the door trying to regroup. Then scowled at it, everything had been fine before he'd opened that bloody thing and now he was stuck in the middle of his own personal horror film. He wasn't entirely certain how that was the door's fault but he was damn well certain that it was. He thumped his head off it a few times before catching his breath.

Right, kids. Upstairs. 

It was only when he reached the door to Tom's room he realised he'd made the classic mistaken of running upstairs instead of out the front door while screaming at the top of his lungs.

It wasn't that he'd never been in what could have been called a horror film before, he just always cast himself in the role of the gruff but genius detective character, not the screaming blonde moron in the skimpy outfit. The door to Tom's room shut behind him and he leaned back against it.

“Oi, knock.” Tom chastised, headphones on, utterly absorbed in something involving a controller and a lot of blood and gore.

“My sister's here.”

“You've a sister?”

“Donna. Here.”

Tom caught the odd tone and paused the screen mid gory decapitation. Hardy empathised with the silently screaming figure on the TV.

“You look shell shocked mate.” 

“You know that thing your mum does when she's being particularly ballsy and obstinate while simultaneously intent on embarrassing the living daylights of you.”

Tom swallowed.

“That but a thousand times worse.”

Tom's eyes widened and he slowly took his earphones off to rest around his neck. Computer game completely forgotten.

“And they're in here. In the house. Together. Together, in the house. This house, in which I am in. Tom, help me. You have to help me.”

“How?”

“I have no idea.”

“TOM!” Ellie's voice yelled from downstairs. “GET DOWN HERE.”

“Well, look on the bright side.”

“What's that?”

“Might be funny for me,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“I am so disowning you.”

“I wonder if she brought baby pictures?”

Hardy glowered, letting his head thump back against the door and looked down his nose. “To think I ever called you my son.”

“Definitely gonna have some good stories though, in't she?”

“You are dead to me.”

“I HAVE AN AUNTIE DONNA,” yelled Tom gleefully at the top of a set of lungs he clearly got from his mother. “YAY FOR AUNTIE DONNAAA”

“Dead,” repeated Hardy yanking the door open. “Deceased.”

Tom barreled out of the room behind him and from the sounds of things bounced down the stairs. “LONG LOST AUNTIE DONNA.”

“Utterly expired,” he muttered as he opened the door to Fred's room. 

The lad was down for a nap, or at least had been before the Miller communications network had kicked into action as Fred sat up in his bed, blinking at Hardy curiously. On the plus side, Hardy reflected, at least he didn't seem remotely phased about being woken up by the plasterboard-trembling voices that were still ringing in Hardy's ear.

“They're all mad Freddie. They're all utterly mad. What are we gonna do ay?”

Fred smiled at the mention of his name. “Awec.”

“Hullo wee man,” he smiled in turn.

Fred held his arms up and Hardy obliged, lifting him up and settling him against his side. 

“Brave boy aren't you? Not being fussed by all that noise. Hm? How long do you reckon we get away with hiding out up here?”

Fred replied in nonsensical toddler. Hardy nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Come on then, brave faces on and buckle up. Time to face our fates like men.”

“Fred,” came the enthusiastic reply.

“Knew you'd be on my side,” he gave a scratchy kiss to Fred's cheek which resulted in a squeal of giggles. “I think I'm gonna need it.” 

“YAY FOR STORY TIME,” Tom's voice screeched up the stairs. “STORY TIME, STORY TIME, STORY TIME.” 

Fred looked up at Hardy with a furrowed little brow.

“It's such a shame you're an only child.”

He had to fight a small smile as he entered the kitchen, Donna gestured expansively in full story telling mode, Miller looked enthralled and Tom was nearly falling out of his chair with laughter. 

Hardy wasn't quite sure what they were going on about until he heard Tom gasp the words 'play dough' and 'hamster'.

“Oh god, how can you be into that story already.”

Tom cackled.

“Here,” said Hardy, plonking a baffled Fred in Donna's lap. “Have a distraction.”

“Hello, and who is this gorgeous fella?”

“This is Fred,” smiled Miller. 

“Fred, hello Fred. I am your Auntie Donna. We are gonna be totes bffs, yes we are.”

Hardy sighed and picked up the cup of tea that had been left on the sideboard. The brightly coloured mug covered in anatomically challenged stick men with beaming faces, grinning out at him in fire-truck red like their mouth had been slashed from ear to ear. He hadn't used another mug since Miller had coaxed Fred into bashfully presenting him with it. 

He took a sip, ridiculously strong and tea bag still in it. He glanced up at Miller to find her looking at him with a gentle smile, not the laughing-at-him one, the affectionate-towards-you one. At least he thought so, he didn't think he'd got the classification of that one down quite right but it worked well enough for the moment. 

Freddie however didn't look very sure of Donna, despite her increasingly desperate attempts to entertain him. Hardy crouched down next to them.

“This is my big sister,” he told him. “Tom is Freddie's big brother, Donna is Alec's big sister.”

“Awec's.”

“Alec's big sister,” he gave Donna a squeeze around the shoulders.

Fred gave a happy little chirp and flung his little arms around Donna's chest, head first into her breasts. Tom cackled and Hardy lost his words. Miller and Donna just 'awwed'. Fred removed his face from Donna's fairly ample bosom – which was not a thought Hardy ever wanted in his head again – and smiled happily.

“Aren't you a sweetie.”

“Fwed.”

“Fred, that's right. Can you say Auntie Donna. Donna.”

“Onna.”

“Donna,” she cheered.

“I think he likes you,” said Miller. “Oh wow, is that the time already? Better get a start on dinner. You will eat with us won't you?”

Hardy's heart sank. He was doomed, he was so doomed.

“I would love to.”

“Excellent. You up for long?”

“Not sure yet,” said Donna. “Few days maybe. Was a bit of an impulse thing. There a decent hotel around here?”

“There's -” started Hardy.

“Why don't you stay here?”

“What?” He said. “No, no -”

“Oh I couldn't intrude.”

“Don't be ridiculous, we'll put you in Fred's room – it's got Thomas the Tank sheets but it's a full size.”

“I can't just toss him out.”

“ Oh he ends up spending most of the night in with us anyway,” Miller waved away the concern. “We only get an hour or so to ourselves anyway.”

“I like that hour,” whined Hardy to no effect.

“Yes, stay. Story time. Story time forever,” insisted Tom.

“It's a really nice hour. Great for doing... things.”

“Forever and ever and ever.”

“Well if you're sure,” said Donna.

“Absolutely, you're fitting right in already.”

“No, no you don't – it's noisy and messy and toddlers and -”

“Do you not want me staying?”

“What? No, no of course it's just -”

“Well then,” Miller and Donna exchanged a smirk “It's settled.”

“Yay,” cheered Tom. 

Fred joined in.

Traitors. Traitors, the lot of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings spend a morning together.

“Tell me there is coffee,” Donna grumped as she stumbled into the kitchen.

“Here we seem to call it 'Mummy Juice',” Hardy offered.

“I like this woman more and more.”

“Hm.”

Donna got herself a cup of what to Hardy looked more like a good cornflour thickened gravy and sat down next to him. She extricated the sugar bowl from the carnage left from a slightly behind schedule breakfast that he wasn't yet awake enough to tackle. Hardy made a face as spoonful after spoonful of sugar disappeared into the mug.

“You're gonna rot your teeth with that.”

Donna hissed at him. Actually hissed.

Hardy went back to his paper. An article and a half later she interrupted his train of thought by kicking him in the leg.

“Ow. What?”

“Were you even – never mind. Of course you weren't. They seem nice,” she said pointedly. “Ellie and the boys.”

Hardy nodded.

“That's all you've to say about it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I'd like you to voice an opinion you besuited streak of social ineptitude, if you can possibly manage it.”

“What's that for?”

“Ellie. I want to know how you feel about her. Think you can manage that?”

“Donna,” he gave her an exasperated look. “I'm living with her. I'm doing domestics and looking after her kids. Trying my best to be a sort of y'know, father figure to them. None of this has escaped your notice.”

“Stop. Listing. Facts.”

“Aye, facts. When are they any good for anything?”

“Are you completely incapable of communicating like a normal human being?”

“Well if that's you then apparently not.”

“Why can you not just say how you feel?”

“How I – Donna, look around you. Is this not a pretty good indicator of how I feel?”

“What?” She said, giving him a look that encompassed the spilled cereal and crayons on the table, out to the mud on the floor, the scattered toys in the living room and the plant pot Miller had knocked over on her way out the door. “A total mess that smells of week old tuna.”

“It's not a total mess – and yeah, alright, the bin needs put out, but -”

“There are trainers in the sink.”

“...yea -”

With a pair of fingertips Donna slowly raised what was starting to look like one of Miller's bras out of the remnants of Fred's coco-pops. The words that been assembling on the tip of his tongue turned and fled. Hardy stared as the murky brown liquid dripped out of the pink lace, refusing to look at his sister's face.

He opened his mouth to say something, sighed, scratched at his stubble and shrugged. 

“Well, yeah. Alright, mornings are messy wi' kids.”

“Yeah. So are emotions.” She dropped the offending article back into the soggy cereal. “So why does one bother you and the other one doesn't?”

“Emotions don't... bother me.” Hardy scowled trying to remove the resulting splash of chocolate milk from his paper.

“Well then, won't be a problem discussing them will it?”

“Oh for – what is this about?”

“Because I'm being so oblique about it all,” she snapped.

Hardy recognised the tone, at some point she'd drifted from annoyed to actually pissed off. Christ, why were people always so bloody difficult.

“I'm living with the woman and her kids. Is that no a pretty decent indicator of how I feel about the whole thing?”

“If it was, would I be asking?”

“I don't see the point in needless talking about things.”

“In relationships – dear little fuckwit of mine – talking is not needless.”

Hardy grumbled to himself.

“Come on then,” she prodded.

“I... I care about her alright? I like this. What we've got. Wouldn't have moved in to a house with kids in it if I wasn't serious about it.”

Donna sighed.

“What?”

“None of that was actual emotion but I suppose I'll have to take it. Can't mark the kids in special ed the same as everyone else.”

Hardy scowled.

“So am I looking at a future sister in law here?”

“Christ Donna, I dunno.” Hardy complained. “It's... early.”

“But you're serious.”

Hardy nodded.

“Good,” she said, face serious and eyes seeking out his. “Cause that woman loves you. Quite probably more than she will ever be able to let you know.”

Hardy looked at her quizzically, worry furrowing his brow.

“You've only spoken t'her a few hours you -”

“Look. Whatever that twat before you did I don't know and I am not gonna ask,” she said, raising her hands. “But it's hurt her, badly. She doesn't deserve being hurt by you to boot. Not on purpose, I know that, but she deserves better than your inability to deal with emotions or discussions leading to anything that's gonna hurt her. Alright?”

“Your my sister,” he muttered into his tea. “Isn't it her you're supposed to be giving a talk to?”

“She loves you, she's damaged but it's you – really you, screw ups and all – that she loves.” Donna shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure it was the same. That is looking out for you.”

A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. 

“You might be brilliant but you're a dolt sometimes, gotta keep an eye out for you.”

“Aye, well...” he said.

“And you keep an eye out for her, I got a feeling she's a good one.”

“You're certainly taking to her better than you did Tess.”

“Tess was a bitch.”

“Don't call her that.”

“I could use other words but I was being respectful of your feelings. Trust me, I have plenty words for what to call that one.”

“So why's Ellie's getting the seal of approval so soon then?”

“Ellie is an actual person.”

“And Tess was what? An alien in a human suit? Come on. You may not have liked her but -”

“Tess was ladder-scrambling ambition in perilous heels. I'm not saying she was evil but y'know. Tess loved what you were.”

“Tess was not using me. She loved me.” He snarled, anger turning his features unpleasant before they sank back into bitterness. “Once upon a time.”

“I'm not saying she was love,” Donna answered, for once quieting her voice instead of raising to match his. “All I'm saying is what she wanted wasn't my little brother. Tess wanted the successful husband to match the nice car and the nice house and the good school. I think she probably thought you wanted the same thing, which given your obsessive tendencies is probably an easy mistake if you're thick. You checked all the boxes luv, the other bits of you just were.”

Hardy scowled, hurt floating behind his eyes. Donna clasped his hand, drawing eye contact from him.

“You are an amazing detective,” she said. “And I am so, so proud of you for that – but that's not why I love you.”

She squeezed his hand.

“I just wanted to see you with someone who got that.”

Hardy grunted. “You couldn't have mentioned all that at the time?”

“You weren't the only one who was a different person back then, luv.”

Her eyes dipped, an emotion flashing over her face too quick for Hardy to properly catch but hinted too close to shame for him to like it.

“What'd I do without you ae?” He grunted.

“Well, you seem to have done alright this time. Luck of the devil.”

“Must have. To have this. For however long it lasts.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just nothing lasts forever.”

Donna gave him an exasperated look and sighed. “Right. So, what's there to see around here?” 

“Not much.”

“Well it won't be a bother for you to show me then, will it?”

Hardy let a slow smile seep out. 

“It's got a beach at least, I know that.”

“Hmm,” Hardy hummed in thought. “We'll maybe leave that one until after lunch. Fred's only doing half days. I think he'd get a kick out of showing Auntie Donna his beach.”

“His beach.”

“Apparently. And having tried prying things out of his hands before I'm not inclined to argue. Just be prepared to carry a bunch of beach gifts back.”

“Beach gifts? What like from stalls or something?”

“Not exactly. I'll show you Fred's collection out back. Think he's trying to create his own personal beach out here.”

“Does it involve dead things.”

“Only if he's a lucky boy.”

“Eww.”

“Don't tell him that, they're his favourites. He'll be heart broken if you reject one of those.”

“Can't he just keep them.”

“And how would that be showing you affection.”

“Why are kids always weirdos.”

“Mm, if only he could do it like normal people,” Hardy replied deadpan.

“Oh if only dear human-blue-screen, if only.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny? Balanced? Hit the voices?


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh is that for me sweetheart? Thank you. Isn't that... lovely.”

Hardy snorted.

“You know what. I think maybe you should keep that one it's so nice.”

“Donna,” insisted Fred, waving a dead soft-shell crab in the air by one of it's legs.

“Oh. Thank you sweetie,” she managed to give a little smile, taking the proffered corpse gingerly between two pointed nails.

Fred beamed.

Hardy couldn't help but smirk which the little boy took as a grin of encouragement and grinned up at him happily. Hardy reached out a hand and tussled his hair. Fred giggled and ran off on little legs to continue the hunt. 

“Boys,” opined Donna, holding it away from her. “Are gross.”

“You forgetting Daisy's bug phase?”

“I remember avoiding it.”

Hardy snorted.

“So how's she taking all of this?”

“Ah...”

“Oh you haven't.”

“She might not know yet.”

Hardy braced himself.

“Do I even need to say it?” Donna glowered.

“In my defense it's only been a couple weeks.”

“Bollocks it has.”

“It has.”

“No, you might've decided to do something about it a couple weeks ago but whatever's going on between you two has been going on longer than that.”

Hardy considered. “Maybe. But anything of any relevance to anyone else hasn't been. It's not that I'm keeping it from her, I just... everyone should be settled in to what this is before...”

He sighed.

“I wouldn't keep it from her,” he continued. “I just need to know what it is before I... offer her the chance to be a part of it.”

“Offer? Like it's something she can refuse?”

Hardy shrugged. “Up to her. I have and always will love her more than anything else on the face of this planet but I can't make her accept... anything. She's well past the age where I can just move her in and insist we all have to adapt. It's not like she's at an age where visitation rights are a thing any more.”

“Well, she's a good lass. May take a while, may not but she'll come around. Stropy teen or not she loves you, she'll want you to be happy.

Hardy wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

“Here,” he said instead, offering her the small sand bucket to deposit Fred's present into. Donna placed it down on the bottom with surprising care and Hardy smiled. “I'm glad you came.”

Donna looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Maybe could have done with a bit of advanced warning but it's good. I'm happy and terrified in equal measure by how well you're all getting on.”

Donna chuffed.

“See what I did there? I used emotion words,” he said, looking comically pleased with himself.

“Aww, well done ickle brother,” she messed his hair just as he'd done Fred's.

“Oi, gerrof.”

Hardy batted her away ineffectually.

“S'my ickle brother all growinged up.”

“I take it back, you're a pain in the arse. Go away.”

“Awec! Come wook,” a little voice summoned them. The wind took the rest of his sentence which was probably indecipherable anyway but their attention was apparently sufficient because as soon as both adults looked towards him he went back to whatever it was that had caught his interest.

“Oh god, what's he got now,” Donna sighed.

Fred was bent at the waist, intently examining something in the water between his bright red welly boots.

“Christ knows,” Hardy groaned. “My money's on it being unsanitary, undesirable and probably dead.”

“Does he still try putting them in his mouth?”

“We're steadily outgrowing that phase,” he replied as they sauntered steadily to the rock pool's that were fascinating Fred.

“Whatcha got there Freddie?”

“Donna, wook.”

“Oh look, you've found...”

“What is...” Hardy scowled and pulled his glasses out of his shirt pocket.

“Oh my god is that -.”

“Ahh.”

“That is a finger. That is a human finger. Oh my god.”

Fred, a little put out by the lack of enthusiasm his new find had generated reached into the pool to bring it out.

“No, no,” said Hardy catching him before he grabbed it and hoisting him into the air.

“No,” insisted Fred, a good deal louder and with a lot more emphasis.

“Honey, no. That's – that's not for Fred's okay?”

“No. I finded it.”

“It's not... it's dirty kiddo, not good.”

“Fred,” he whined, drawing out the vowel pathetically, reaching towards the little rock pool.

“Hey, hey,” said Hardy bouncing the little boy gently. “Tell you what, why don't you help Uncle Alec and Auntie Donna take a picture hm? Then we can show Mummy?”

“Mine,” insisted Fred.

“We can't take it home love, it's dirty okay? Why don't you take Auntie Donna and have a look for a special shell for her, you love shells don't you Donna?”

“Oh yeah, best things ever shells. Come help me find one? A really special one?”

Donna held out a hand.

Fred looked conflicted, caught between the unfairness of being denied his prize and the urge to please the new person in his life.

“Come on I think I need help from my Freddie to find me a really special one.”

“You gonna help your Auntie Donna Freddie? Find her the best shell ever.”

The tears in Fred's eyes retreated and he nodded resoloutely, already taking his role as broadchurch's best beach treasure hunter very seriously. Hardy passed him over and reluctantly drew his phone from his pocket.

“She's gonna kill me for this,” he muttered to himself.

* * *

Miller didn't kill him for it but he did get a bit of a earful, quiet like as Fred chatted away to Dirty Brain about his discovery. The two got on disturbingly well and Hardy tried to direct Miller's attention to where the man was showing her son a close up of the bagged finger. Which apparently was of secondary importance to Hardy getting a bollocking, which he thought was particularly unfair and Donna found hilarious.

Still it was a quick enough earful and the rest of the day comfortably uneventful, Fred still chattering away about his day at the beach as if it was his favourite ever. Which was fine even if it contained the word Bwian too many times for his liking, it was just happy background music until Tom came home.

Tom of course somehow understood Fred's English-approximate nonsense language perfectly.

“Did he just say he found a finger at the beach?” Tom frowned.

“You probably misheard.”

“No, I'm pretty fluent in Fred. You took him to a crime scene?”

“Not intentionally.”

“You took my baby brother to a crime scene.”

“No, look. It's probably not even the scene of the crime.”

“He's a baby,” Tom cried. “I'm ages older than Fred – why don't I get to see body parts?”

“What?”

“That is so unfair.”

“What are you two arguing about?” Miller asked sauntering into the room and going straight   
for the kettle.

“About him taking Freddie to a crime scene.”

“I still can't believe you did that,” she scolded.

“Once again: not intentionally. Also, technically, highly unlikely to be where the crime   
actually took place. So really -”

“It's still a crime scene,” insisted Tom.

“Thank you,” said Miller.

“Which means he's still been to one and I haven't.”

“What?” Miller rounded on her eldest.

Tom apparently misread the direction behind that comment as he folded his arms and glared at Hardy. “I. Know.”

Miller elected to ignore Tom for the time being and returned her attention to Hardy “You   
could have kept a bit of a better eye on him, that's all I'm saying.”

“Since when was I supposed to expect dismembered body parts in rock pools?”

“You should at least let me see the pictures.”

“Tom, shut it.”

Tom flung a chair over and stormed out of the room, feet thumping heavily up the stairs. It was so unexpected that Miller was too stunned to yell at him to come back and Hardy just opened his mouth. Donna and Fred looked up from where they were drawing together in the living room.

“That was...”

Miller scowled and made to go after him.

“Wait. Let me,” said Hardy, catching her by the arm then quickly loosening his grip before she could object. “If that's okay, I mean. I'd – I 'd like a chance to interact with him like this.”

Miller looked like she was about to object then reconsidered at his words and nodded.

“Just don't be too rough on him right?”

“Of course, it's just a talk. Wouldn't lay finger on him.”

“Never occurred to me you would.”

Hardy nodded, satisfied and quietly followed Tom's path upstairs. He knocked on the door to Tom's room and waited for a reply. It only took a moment for Tom to open the door, eyes downcast and shuffle out of the way to let him in.

Hardy drew an uncertain breath. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tom sat down on his bed, picking the controller for his game back up but not turning anything on.

“Yeah, I'm not a fan of that either but...” he sighed. “You don't actually want to see a crime scene, do you?” 

“A little.”

“Why?”

Tom dropped his gaze to the controller in his hands, though Hardy didn't think he was actually looking at it.

“I just... I want to see if I can stomach it. Y'know? Need to know if I can do it.”

“How come?”

“So I know if I can do it. Y'know, become a detective.”

“You want to go into the police?”

Tom shrugged. “Never used to, not before.”

“What changed your mind?”

Tom gave him a look.

“It's not the event that changes you, it's how you respond to it. Not really that stupid a question when you think about it.”

“Dad,” he said quietly. “Or Joe. Don't even know what I'm supposed to call him anymore.”

Hardy didn't know how to commen on that one so instead he carried on, “So why's that changed your mind?”

“People can't get away with it. It's not right.”

“Is that why? So you can punish him?”

Tom shook his head and considered his words, so much so that Hardy felt that even when he did speak, he'd only be getting a part of it. 

“Been thinking about it. Feels like a pretty clear line in the sand. Be like him or be like Mum.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Isn't it?”

“There's more than one career options for you Tom.”

“I owe it. To Danny, to Mum, to Freddie. To the universe. One Miller to fuck up, another Miller to put it right. Maybe it'll all balance out in the end.”

“Tom I'm not -”

“I want Freddie to see – look, I know he has you now but he's still gonna grow up to know what his father did. That a part of him lives on inside of him. I need him to know that's not the only path. I want to show him a Miller man that was better. I want to give him that. I'm not having my little brother doubt the way I did.”

“I uh – I'm gonna hug you right now Tom,” Hardy choked up, arms going around the young man before he had a chance to object. “I'm proud of you. I've no right to be and you're reasoning is bullshit mate but your intentions – I am so, so proud.”

To his surprise Tom embraced him back, not just politely but with purpose.

“M'gonna make mum proud, I'm gonna show Freddie he never needs to doubt his blood. I'm gonna kick arse, catch criminals and earn a £19k starting salary.”

Hardy chuffed and released his grip.

“You're gonna make your mum proud, you're gonna give Freddie a role model. You're gonna do a hell of a lot of paperwork and follow proper police proceedure.”

Tom let out a huff of laughter and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand. 

“You gonna help us get in then?”

“Son of a DS and a DI? You're gonna be the most prepared for those tests there's ever been.”

“Hell yeah.”

“If that's what you decide to do.”

Tom nodded, “Still time to think but yeah. I think I've decided.”

“Okay.”

“Crime scenes?”

“Not how it works but we'll talk about getting you experience with something, you told your Mum that's what all this was about?”

“Not yet. Gonna surprise her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not gonna tell her anything till I'm in the uniform.”

“Ooh, oh you are so on your own for that one. I'm involking plausable deniability all the way.”

“Wimp.”

“Wimp? You listen to me mate, that's DI Wimp t'you, future PC Miller.”

When Tom smiled, it was hidden and bashful as far from Freddie's teeth filled beam as you could get but Hardy found it tugged his heart just the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if it's tickled your interest and I'll add some more.


End file.
